#Work with Dragon Assistant
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thimblings · 5 days ago
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the origin story of Marisol de Riva's shitty bangs
(Bas is 'Sebastian de Riva', a hornless [maybe de-horned? not sure yet] qunari OC that's part of my backstory for my Rook lmao)
#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age fanart#Viago de Riva#Rook de Riva#Marisol de Riva#rook backstory#obviously her bangs get less shitty lmao but she likes the length so they get like actually styled#this is very specific to literally JUST me wanting to get it out lol there is no audience for this i just LVOE my Rook#and my stupid de Rivas lolol#in my backstory stuff Bas and another woman Roshanna were Crow trainers from other houses who joined Viago when he formed house de riva#Ro was the Crow who originally took Viago to the organization after he chose the Crows rather than exile#both of them are fiercely loyal to Viago and would probably also assist in him taking the throne if he wanted just like Solina would lol#by the time of datv Bas and Ro are both 'retired' from Crow work due to Bas being wheelchair bound and Ro caring for the house/fledglings#i do imagine Viago treats Solina like other fledglings but she's also the first mage he brings in for house de Riva so she's an anomaly#and she's kind of a prodigy despite being a little goblin and is ALSO dangerously loyal to Vi lol#so he does deal with accusations of favoritism BUT ARE THEY WRONG#that also means she gets poisoned more often and has to personally train with him which is objectively more dangerous lmao#i DO also see the primary like...de Riva house and all their members mostly being in La Salle rather than Treviso#but they have a villa in Treviso due to the ongoing Antaam crisis that's been building for a decade#so there's a smaller presence of House de Riva members in Treviso and that villa is where Marisol/Bas/Ro primarily live and stay#and lol Viago does at this point as well
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vrains-rewrite · 1 year ago
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Do you all have any particular artists or writers in mind to help you in the future?
Are you going to write out all the duels?
Best of luck with everything!!
Nobody like specifically is currently in mind because we wouldn’t wanna get our mind set on anyone specific and have them not sign up lol, but if we get stuck on anything we’d just open some sorta way to sign up, probably make a discord server, and then see who’s interested. I’ve discussed adding additional writers and they didn’t oppose it, though I do get the impression they’d be uncomfortable if I added anyone we don’t already know
The three of us haven’t discussed this yet but ik i’d be interested in looking for artists doing some drawings for big episodes soo i will speak to them about that later
And yeah, I really want to try and write duels because its an integral part to the show. If it’s looking a bit too long and hard to follow, some parts may be cut or simplified (though i wanna try and do that to a minimum) so generally yeah we’re writing duels
-Teal
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veiledfox · 1 year ago
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} There really is something to good music making things memorable
#I can very clearly remember a number of things thanks to the music from them#The opening to Madoka Magica with Walprugisnacht and the fantastic music to the sheer scale of despair that the actual event itself holds#Riko taking Reg up onto the edge of the crater to look out over Orth as the sun rises and the utter beauty that was Hanazeve Caradina plays#Shiro finally utilizing Unlimited Blade Works against Gilgamesh toward the end of UBW and actually managing to push back against him#Apocrypha's main theme playing as Sieg takes on Shiro and all the buildup throughout until the moment Sieg calls upon Fran's Blasted Tree#Tanjiro using Sun Breathing for the first time ever and absolutely turning the tables around on his first Major Demon and Nezuko's assist#ACCEPT THE TRUTH from Final Fantasy 16 and “Find The Flame” cicking in as the true fight against the Infernal Shadow starts#The utterly bonkers rendition of Omega Weapon's theme brought over from FFXIV into FFXVI for the Omega absolutely WILD Omega fight#The Deep Stone Lullaby from Destiny 2's Deep Stone Crypt raid when you exit the space station and have a whole parkour section in SPACE#Nier Automata's Weight of the World the many times it's heard throughout the game up until you reach ending E and hear the choir version#The ever iconic music all across Evangelion tbh#though especially Decisive Battle from Ramiel Fate from Sahaquiel and Tsubasa Wo Kudasai from the end of 2.22#Ludwig The Holy Blade's theme as a whole from Bloodborne The Old Hunters and how it shifts into a hauntingly beautiful and epic orchestra#Fucking ANSWERS from the FFXIV A Realm Reborn trailer and the utterly gorgeous and terrifying animation that was Bahamut's rampage#The serenely gorgeous music from all of Journey but especially the piece right at the end when you're making your final ascent#How to Train Your Dragon 2 opening with “Where No One Goes” as Hiccup and Toothless soar through the skies so effortlessly together#The utterly haunting and adrenaline pumping Rumble of Scientific Triumph from MiA:Dawn of Deep Soul during the final encounter#Music is fucking AWESOME#just felt like doing a bit of rambling about it
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itsadragonaesthetic · 1 year ago
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One of the most annoying things is when you spend all this time hyping yourself up to do the nerve-wracking yet easy thing and then when you finally do it, nobody answers the phone, nobody is willing to help, they don't know what you're talking about, or otherwise it turns out the task is 100x more complicated and challenging than you expected it to be.
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technoturian · 9 months ago
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I'm a year late but my brother just told me about this and I'm dying
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Kotaku: Russell Crowe Movie Mistakes Dragon Age Icon For Spanish Inquisition Symbol
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prokopetz · 1 year ago
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I think a lot of folks in indie RPG spaces misunderstand what's going on when people who've only ever played Dungeons & Dragons claim that indie RPGs are categorically "too complicated". Yes, it's sometimes the case that they're making the unjustified assumption that all games are as complicated as Dungeons & Dragons and shying away from the possibility of having to brave a steep learning cure a second time, but that's not the whole picture.
A big part of it is that there's a substantial chunk of the D&D fandom – not a majority by any means, but certainly a very significant minority – who are into D&D because they like its vibes or they enjoy its default setting or whatever, but they have no interest in actually playing the kind of game that D&D is... so they don't.
Oh, they'll show up at your table, and if you're very lucky they might even provide their own character sheet (though whether it adheres to the character creation guidelines is anyone's guess!), but their actual engagement with the process of play consists of dicking around until the GM tells them to roll some dice, then reporting what number they rolled and letting the GM figure out what that means.
Basically, they're putting the GM in the position of acting as their personal assistant, onto whom they can offload any parts of the process of play that they're not interested in – and for some players, that's essentially everything except the physical act of rolling the dice, made possible by the fact most of D&D's mechanics are either GM-facing or amenable to being treated as such.*
Now, let's take this player and present them with a game whose design is informed by a culture of play where mechanics are strongly player facing, often to the extent that the GM doesn't need to familiarise themselves with the players' character sheets and never rolls any dice, and... well, you can see where the wires get crossed, right?
And the worst part is that it's not these players' fault – not really. Heck, it's not even a problem with D&D as a system. The problem is D&D's marketing-decreed position as a universal entry-level game means that neither the text nor the culture of play are ever allowed to admit that it might be a bad fit for any player, so total disengagement from the processes of play has to be framed as a personal preference and not a sign of basic incompatibility between the kind of game a player wants to be playing and the kind of game they're actually playing.
(Of course, from the GM's perspective, having even one player who expects you to do all the work represents a huge increase to the GM's workload, let alone a whole group full of them – but we can't admit that, either, so we're left with a culture of play whose received wisdom holds that it's just normal for GMs to be constantly riding the ragged edge of creative burnout. Fun!)
* Which, to be clear, is not a flaw in itself; a rules-heavy game ideally needs a mechanism for introducing its processes of play gradually.
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pseudowho · 6 months ago
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The Watchmaker
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Newly employed as the assistant to a renowned watchmaker, you soon discover how deeply his obsessions run.
Warnings: 18+, boss/assistant relationship, mutual longing, loss of virginity, fingering (f!receiving), nipple play, hand job (m!receiving), creampie, gentle manhandling (consensual), breeding hints, gentle period-drama Nanami snippety-snaps and becomes unhinged, two desperate people getting far too sexy over timepieces and pots of tea
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It was unusual for a lone young woman to be lodged and apprenticed by a single man; and, yet, it came to be, when you alone passed the Watchmaker's interview.
You approached on dry cobblestones, to a handsome, deep shop, with glossy black and gold railings and doors. Your corset felt heavy with the city's summer humidity; the river held the heat like a simmering pan, and its heady stench threatened to consume you. You were used to being without a chaperone, but your modest dress and poor accompaniment drew more wayward glances in this part of the city.
You hurried into the shop, a brass bell above the door tinkling your arrival. Nobody came to greet you. You followed the voices to the back, the eyes of many timepieces following you, their ticking as whispers and gossip in your wake. You came, in time, down tiled steps to a workshop, warm and bright and full of men...naturally.
A single, cursive note graced a sign before the only remaining workbench.
Repair the clock.
Such meagre instructions for a sought-after job. In golden lamplight, a pile of cogs and a loose-handed clock face glimmered like dragon hoard. You cast your eyes, stroking your corset and heavy skirts. You nodded once, and reassured yourself, only once.
"You can do this."
The Watchmaker, a tall man whose broad shoulders and thick hands did not suggest one with a delicate touch, neither agreed nor disagreed; he simply watched, silently observing you like the many faces of his timepieces. You set to work before your audience. The Watchmaker came and went, seeking to observe the half-dozen men competing alongside you.
And, in time, half a dozen sweating young men failed one, by one, by one. The Watchmaker's disgust was apparent, and his sneers soured one, by one, by one, until the last young hopeful curdled like milk before him.
When the Watchmaker came to you, you and your box of gold were not at your station. He frowned, kept company only by muted ticks and tocks. He followed your trail, out to his walled garden.
The test would have been considered a 'trick' only by those who were angry that their lack of respect for precision and accuracy had been identified. You, who could not fathom such sloppiness, found an honest solution.
"A sundial?" The Watchmaker rumbled. You felt a rush of heat from fingertips to toes, untouched by such a voice before. Smoothing your skirts again, and finishing your adjustments to hide the heat in your cheeks, you nodded.
You had fashioned your clock face and myriad small clock pieces to form a glimmering sundial. You had positioned it just so, and confirmed its position with the time shown on your own, battered pocket watch.
The Watchmaker circled you, with narrow eyes that may contain humour were they not so scrutinising. He was impeccably tailored, you noted; a high, crisp collar and rolled back white sleeves revealed enough throat and forearm to make you sweat. An exquisite navy waistcoat nipped his waist only marginally more than his tied apron, and he hummed at your sundial.
"Not what I'd call accurate."
"I disagree. While it may not be very precise, it is accurate. The cogs for the clock couldn't be set in such a way as to make the seconds correct. They were always just out. But you already knew that, didn't you?"
He almost smiled; his eyes certainly did. Nodding, and not one for hyperbolic praise, he bowed, instead.
"Nanami Kento. I would be privileged to offer you the role as my apprentice."
The earth formed a springboard, launching you to heaven, and it wrenched the breath from your lungs on the way. Checking yourself before you babbled over with incredulous tears, you choked out an answer on a sloppy curtsey.
"Even though-- even though I'm a woman?"
A scoff. "I don't see how that's relevant."
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Mr.Nanami sought your constant presence.
A natural timekeeper, himself, he sought the company of those like him, who would not expect him to partake in social niceties and small-talk. It was no wonder, then, that he became a Watchmaker, whose many-natured friends had the same face but twice a day.
While Nanami Kento was normally at peace in ticking solitude, the many hands and ceaseless seconds had eventually, as the years went by, begun to grind into an aching loneliness.
You felt it, as summer crisped to autumn, and frosted to winter-- his desire for your company. The way his obsession bloomed to include you alongside his timepieces. The way he lingered in doorways while you handled the customers' repairs. The way he seemed breathless when your smile sent another happy patron on their way. The way he would flinch if you brushed past him.
And god, how it burned you. Eyes downcast in reverence could not remain so for long, so magnetised were they to him. His silences were rarely cold, but rather, simply those of one who held his tongue until he had something to say; a far cry from the men you knew, who sought to usurp the monarchial peace through vocal domination.
Learning such craft at Mr.Nanami's thick, calloused hands, required intimate proximity; he would have to lean around you, at points, with his chest to your back. He moved your hands within his, teaching you the dexterity needed to repair a tiny watch with surgical precision. He leaned like this around you now. You could barely breathe.
"You were not wrong. Though not strictly right, either," he murmured in your ear, his breath grazing over your cheek. His hands held the tools in yours, using your body to perform miracles. You felt faint, flushed, hot against his body, and breathed a shaking breath, quiet in your frustration so as not to disturb the sleeping cogs.
"I want to be perfect, I-- I need it--"
An amused hum, used to your angry tiny mechanics. "You are perfect, thank you. Now let us make the pocket watch match."
As your hands worked in tandem, and another impossibly tiny cog found its home, you gasped in delight, relieved, and not thinking.
"Ah, yes, Kento, we--"
Mr.Nanami stiffened behind you. You backpedaled.
"Ah-- I mean, Mr.Nanami-- I'm so sorry--"
He did not seem upset, though his ears reddened as he stepped away from you. He murmured again, unused to being perceived.
"No, no-- it's quite alright-- I use your given name, after all."
With his face flat but his eyes alight, when you looked up at him in wary apology, he sought to reassure you with a smile.
"Really, please-- please do call me Kento."
"It feels...wrong."
"I...would not seek to make you uncomfortable. It is entirely of your preference."
Your heart drowned out the whispering whirrs of the room. You heard the tap of Mr.Nanami's feet as he ascended the workshop stairs, and blurted out.
"--Kento, I'll...I'll call you Kento. Please."
A pause. Another silence. Kento's voice tightened with something altogether more intimate.
"I fear I shall get used to it far too quickly."
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Too long were you lingering in your respective doorways, before bed. Too sweet, were the shared evenings in a firecrackle sitting room. Too electrifying, were the hands that met to pour just one more cup. Too intentional were the slim-eyed stares that burned down to the very bones of you.
If you died, and committed your body to science, the ghost of you would be unsurprised if a surgeon found Nanami Kento's name scored across your ribs; for nobody else could access that cage to your heart and soul.
Nobody else could warm you, during Winter fairs on the frozen river.
Nobody else could take your hand, to help you down the stairs at the Timepiece Exhibition.
Nobody else could still you with a look, or teach you with such few words, and this was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--
Your peak hit you in a burst of static. You clasped your hand over your own mouth, as if it would sell you out for your filthy crimes. Still, you arched in your bed, your toes curling against the sheets, bucking up into nothing in waves. Clarity did not hit you after, for it had already hit you during, and had done nothing to still your fingers.
Rolling over, and pressing your face into your pillow after the ecstasy had passed, you held your breath. It was too quiet.
Your eyes sprung open. The muffled bustling you had heard from the bedroom next door, had stopped. You weren't sure when. The silence was deafening...until movement started again, more clipped than it had been before. You could feel him, moving with irritation, a prowling beast in a cage.
It was over an hour before Kento's own hand travelled down his belly, to grasp himself with whispered curses and pleas of your name. Long enough, he hoped, for you to be asleep. Long enough, he hoped, that he could hide this rampant obsession that was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--
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"I should think I'll be home for tea. Inspector Aberline's grandfather clock again. It has stage fright, I fear, for how often the Inspector stares at it."
Kento's words, from hours before, rolled through your mind again and again. The smile you had sent your final patron of the day on his way with, slipped away, for you saw the lamplighter beginning his rounds on the cobbles outside. The sun had already set; he was late, tonight. You'd have offered him a lantern, but without Kento beside you, you felt you would need its warmth and light more.
Your eyes flickered to a package on the desk. It was imperative, Kento had said, that this was delivered to the customer today. 'Today', as a concept, was growing increasingly more abstract as it threatened to expire.
You saw the deep, dark circles under Kento's eyes, in your mind's eye. He had not been sleeping well. He needed the rest. You could not bear to see him overburdened.
Taking a deep breath, and undoing your apron to replace it for your heavy coat and gloves, you tucked the package under your arm, locked up to the tune of the tinkling bell, and stole away through the night like a thief in the dark.
Clacking across cobblestones, and trying to diminish the noise of your boots upon them, you walked for what felt like miles. Though you were sure you were safe, in this part of the city, the darkness turned shadows into beasts of great renown.
Spring-Heeled Jack stalked you from the shadows. You clutched the package closer, walking faster, breathing harder--
"What the hell are you doing out here, at this time of night?"
You squealed, and flattened against a red brick wall. Kento, imperious and huge in a heavy brown overcoat, glowered down at you with unbridled rage.
"The package," you squeaked, brandishing it as a shield, "you said-- said it needed to be delivered--"
"And it is not your place to take it upon yourself to do so. Returning to find you gone, out delivering a bloody package, while there's a killer on the loose? Extraordinary." The coldness that Kento reserved only for others, now directed at you, was a bitter sting.
Still; Kento held out his arm, stiff. His lip curled when you did not immediately take it. He grew frosty as he waited, and you slipped your arm into his, to a mollified grumble.
"Come," Kento rumbled, arresting you in a hold so intimate against his side, "let us not waste a journey. The customer isn't far from here. It shall give you time to think about your foolish choices."
You felt furious tears prickle behind your eyes. Like a dog with a bone, Kento struggled to let his anger go, and you snapped up at him, "Give it a rest. You're not my husband--"
"--yet, if it would allow me any sort of say over your safety, perhaps I should be your husband." Kento had frozen, looming over you. Your belly twisted, your face hot. You turned aside, chastised like a child.
"I'm no girl," you whispered, venomous, "I can take care of myself--"
"In a world that places no value on women, why should you ever feel safe? Out here, instead of in my--"
It was Kento's turn to redden. His jaw clenched. His fingers tapped upon the package. You felt righteous anger bubbling over, and rolled the dice, in a stabbing final gambit.
"In your what, sir? In your workshop? In your arms? Or in your bed?"
Kento's stony impassivity was tested, but remained steadfast even against your snapping. But you knew him, now; you saw how his chest hitched, heard his knuckles crack, and caught the faintest flare of his nostrils. Ducking his head for a moment, and dramatised by lamplit shadow, he stepped in just once to whisper above your ear.
"You forget yourself. I am your mentor, and you are my assistant, and--"
"--and I've had enough of you pretending that's all we are--"
"--and it's hard enough not bursting into your room at night when I hear your fingers drag my name from your mouth, so if you will be so kind as to cease and desist, I will not have to press you against this damn wall to hold your tongue with my own."
His hissing reproach doused the argument with ice water. Numb-footed and stunned, you walked through treacle, as Kento dragged you to deliver the package. Your chest was still thickened by mortification by the time you approached the Watchmakers' familiar iron railings.
You found yourself pressed inside, hearing the door bolted with force. Kento's hands softened as they removed your coat from your shoulders.
"Bed," he snapped. Kento turned his back to you to light a waxdrip candle. White shirtsleeves billowed from the shoulders of his waistcoat, and he checked his pocket watch as if it would give him the answer. You reached one hand out, to bunch in the back of his waistcoat, as if a child, and he snapped again.
"Alone."
You flinched. You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You swallowed hard, rolling the dice again.
"I hear you, too. In your room at night. The walls are thin."
"So is my patience, young lady, I will not tolerate--"
"You treat me like a girl to distance yourself from me, but pleasure yourself to my name? Please. You can make a fool of yourself but don't make a fool out of me--"
Kento spun with a growl, lifting you by the waist to drop you upon the counter. You squeaked, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself when he closed the gap between you.
"Do not act as if you know," Kento whispered, low and slow, "what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring. Do not act as if you know what it means to be reduced so, that I must spill myself onto my belly every night, to preserve your virtue.
I do not blame you, naturally-- it's my burden entirely-- but if you add one more ounce to my shoulders with that incorrigible little mouth of yours, I'm afraid your virtue shall be...under threat."
You couldn't deny the heat pooling between your thighs, now, trapped as it was by Kento's taut body. You couldn't deny your craving for such fabled bliss.
"How does it feel," you whispered, your hand creeping up the buttons of his waistcoat to stroke the silk of his cravat, "Kento? How does it feel? Do you use your hand, or--"
An agonal little choke broke past Kento's high collar. His eyes begged you to stop him. You felt his long fingers twitch on your waist.
"Do not ask me--"
"Please," you whispered again, just as desperate as him, "please, I need to know, I can't keep living life in the dark--"
"My hand," Kento choked out, his chest barrelling with the weight of his breaths, "I use my hand. But even in the dark, I can't seem to convince myself that it-- that it's--"
You felt him falter, and you begged him, your tugging loosening his cravat enough to see his throat bob behind it. Kento whined, begging in kind. His face twisted, as if the thuds of pleasure lengthening his cock were hurting him. The torture was sweet; you felt it, too.
"Don't make me say it," Kento pleaded, nose to nose and nuzzling from side to side, "I can't take it--"
"You can-- you can take me--"
"--you don't know what you're saying--"
"--I do, Kento, please--"
"--don't know what you're sacrificing--"
"--you wouldn't," you pressed, feeling his hands moving against his wishes to unbutton the back of your dress, "you wouldn't sacrifice me, I know, so just--"
Kento groaned, a sound so sinful, just to feel your dress release and slip down over your shoulders. Pinching the ends of your sleeves, with his fingertips grazing your palms and inner wrists until you shivered, he pulled. A gossamer shift of white ghosted over your skin.
"So many layers, upon a lady," Kento murmured against your lips, "like unwrapping a gift."
He sounded drunk, and the honeyrich pools of his eyes had darkened. You couldn't pinpoint the moment his resolve had crumbled, but crumble it did, with the tick-tocking eyes of many upon you. Kento grazed his fingers against your lips, ordering in a whisper.
"Open." You didn't have to, your jaw already slack as promise burned you at the edges. Kento swiped his thumb and forefinger across your tongue with a groan, and reached out, snuffing the candle between them.
What dim light there had been, died. None that breathed would hold court or witness to what Kento was about to do to your virtue.
"This will not happen only once," Kento murmured against your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you until you mewled. He cursed to hear it, becoming more unhinged by the minute. "I will take your maidenhood as a lover, but take your hand as my wife. You cannot refuse."
You could refuse-- you knew you could, in absolute safety, but such refusal would take his mouth from you with immediate effect. His hands would cease their insistent glide up, and up, beneath your skirts. He would stop rutting forwards against nothing, with each whimper that left your lips. He would no longer drag your bodice down with his teeth, to suckle at the plump swell of your breasts.
You nodded, breathless, your hands shaking against the buttons of Kento's waistcoat. He grunted as it fell open, and your hands settled upon his waist. His graze against your neck was more insistent, now, and sloppier; hungry, open mouthed kisses that suckled the salt from your skin. Occasionally, you heard him murmur, begging to you, or to his god, or to himself, for any sort of release.
Overtaken by need, you finished unbuttoning his trousers, and tangled your fingers in his hair, instead.
"Don't know what you're doing," Kento mumbled, drunker by the minute, "going to ruin you, I-- I'll ruin you-- I'm no sensible size for a virgin--"
"So you suggest I find some other man?" You panted, "You suggest I find someone smaller--"
"They don't fucking deserve you," Kento spat, forcing the last of your skirts up to grind himself at your core until you whined. With your corset untied, Kento tossed it to the floor behind him with disdain, and yanked the final layer down to free your breasts.
Shuddering, he gripped his cock to restrain himself.
"Divine," Kento whispered, ducking to nuzzle against the tips of your breasts, "I have to-- please allow me to--"
Without waiting for an answer, Kento lapped your nipple into his mouth with a groan. Suckling until you pleaded his name, with hot bursts of pleasure to your core, Kento's hands reached the crest of your thighs, and groaned to find more layers in the way.
"Buy you some more," he grunted against your breasts, gripping the fabric between strong fingers to shred it apart, "my apologies-- now, just-- oh, fuck, I--"
His fingers had slipped between your folds to glide through them. Needing to see you arch against the sudden intrusion, Kento pressed you back until you were lying on the counter, and loomed over you. You caught sight of him for the first time in minutes.
Kento was utterly dishevelled, unabashed, and too far gone. With his cravat and waistcoat hanging loose, and a long, thick swell beneath what remained of his unbuttoned trousers, he looked more debauched than your wildest fantasies. He twitched with the spurt of pre-cum that left his cock, to see you spread out before him.
Sniffing, and dragging one hand back through his parted hair, Kento scoffed at your look of glassy-eyed wonderment. His fingers curled through your lips until that sought-after arch graced his eyes, and you mewled again, your thighs clamping around his hips
"More than one of us can be reduced to a beast," he growled, circling your clit with calloused fingertips, "as you have insisted. I've taught you with these fingers before. Let us teach you something new; how it feels to peak upon the hands of a man."
"--o-oh god, oh god oh god--"
A bark of laughter, "--he won't help you now--"
"--oh, sir--"
"Try again."
"K-Kento!" You chastised through blinding pleasure. Kento chuckled again, intoxicated and made ruthless by it, and holding you flat by the belly as his hands worked miracles on your core.
"That's it-- good girl--"
The way he praised you had always brought you to a blush, but how he growled his praises while he fingered you to completion was another entity entirely.
Your hips rolled up, trying to fill the emptiness that his fingers alone couldn't. Your body was rendered base with pleasure, and nature's insistence that such passiveness should be used to leave your belly full of seed.
You could see that, too, in his eyes; an urge; a hunger that belied his gentle nature. In sudden clarity, you understood his cry of agony, from mere minutes before: 'Do not act as if you know what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring.'
"--K-Kento, I-- I don't know if I'll-- it's too much, aches-- augh--"
Your approaching peak threatened to overwhelm you, and you squirmed and begged, though you knew not what for. Kento pinned you, with one splayed hand on your belly, and whispered you on.
"That's it-- don't be afraid...shhh, now. Good girl-- that's it-- beautiful--"
You came with thigh-clamping bursts of ecstasy, so sharp and static by the hands of another, that your belly ached and cramped with the force of the spasms. Kento's fingers slowed, massaging the pleasure out of you at length, though you could feel his body growing heavy with the weight of self-restraint.
You felt yourself twitching, crunching forwards involuntarily, with little more than broken whimpers and cries as he talked you down. Though, as clarity dawned in supple bliss, you felt he may be trying to talk himself down.
"...good...that's good, that's enough, I...I am satisfied, I..."
Kento lied to himself so exquisitely, as if he didn't palm his cock with one trembling hand. As if he hadn't pulled his shirt off to relieve the prickling heat of his skin. As if he couldn't kiss you because that, oddly, would be the intimacy that broke the dam.
You broke it for him, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his neck so he couldn't rear away from you. He tried, at first, with a grunt of surprise, gripping you by the waist. Feeling your lips against his rendered him dumb again, feral and nuzzling his nose to yours, like an addict in a field of poppies.
"Please-- I'm afraid I won't-- won't be gentle--"
"Bed," you whispered against his lips, "not alone."
Kento groaned again, cupping his hands beneath your thighs to lift you, and carry you up the narrow wooden staircase. He knew every shoeworn step in the dark; knew where the corridor dipped; knew the amount of steps between his bedroom door and yours, so many times had he paced between the two.
With his curtains un-drawn, only the cold winter moonlight lit the room. Meticulous, uniform possessions left meticulous, uniform shadows. The whole room smelled of Kento; of soft wax, leather and musk. In his room, in his arms as one leg flicked the door deftly closed behind him, felt like being brought home.
"If I show you how," Kento whispered, laying you on his bed, just to stalk you slowly up to his pillows, "will you...can I..."
You'd have said yes to anything. Without knowing exactly what Kento asked for, you nodded. He saw the absolute trust in your eyes, and stiffened, his eyes darkening with something more profound than need.
"Do you know what physical love entails?" He rumbled, nosing against your neck again, and depriving you of the first kiss you so desperately craved. "Do you know what it is, to be taken?"
You swallowed hard, feeling lead weights in your still twitching belly. You cursed the society that had sought your submission through ignorance.
"We...are supposed to fit together," you whispered, to Kento's satisfied rumble. Stil, it was not enough; you knew he would not continue past his insistent suckling of your throat, if you showed true ignorance, so you mumbled past your blushes.
"You...press yourself inside me, until...until you..."
"...go on."
"Until...you finish, like--like--"
"...like you did, on my fingers. Except, your completion simply fills my soul...metaphorically speaking. My completion fills you literally."
Your hand had trailed down his bare chest, reverent at his form, so different to your own and witnessed before only in fine art and statues. He didn't stop you as your hand trailed lower. He simply fixed you with a stare, that was half hope and half despair.
With rising breaths, you looked down between your bodies as you freed him. Animalistic relief twitched across Kento's shoulders, for the release from his confines. He groaned into your throat, husky in a way that made you throb. You longed to see his pleasure as he had seen yours.
Tentative, you grazed his length with the barest fingertips. Rigid, woody, hot, velvety, wet at the tip and so long and--
"Oh," you breathed, gripping him and feeling his heartbeat through his sex, and utterly unsure what you had expected, "feels...good--"
Kento breathed harshly, and had dropped onto his elbows above you, his face twisted in agony. He panted, fractious.
"Don't-- do not--"
Your hand flinched away, horrified for having hurt him, and he cursed, rolling off you to sit, strewn and messy and barely dressed, against the head of the bed. Your eyes fixed again on his manhood, heavy and twitching against his belly.
"I won't touch-- I'm sorry--"
"Don't stop," Kento emphasised, breathless, "don't...dont stop."
With a flush of heat in your cheeks, you understood the nature of Kento's agony, and it only made you hungrier. Crawling over him in the barest white undergown, to straddle his thighs and sit upon them, you reached out to grip him with one trembling hand again. Kento arched, moaning that rusty, desperate moan again.
"Show me? Like you do in...in the workshop."
"God, your hand is so sweet--" With his own hand, big enough to engulf yours, he wrapped around your grip to his length. Slowly, deliberately, and watching where your hands clasped around him with sweat on his brow, Kento used your hand to pump himself.
Feeling the glide of silk on iron made your core wetten and clench. Watching how Kento moaned, bucking into your joined fists and reaching up behind him to grip the pillows, was hypnotic. Within seconds, your hand had begun to move independently of his, stroking him with raw determination to witnessq his unravelling.
Kento groaned in time with your rhythmic strokes. His newly freed fist bunched, instead, at your hip, having rucked your slip aside to dimple shaking fingertips in the plush of your curves. You began to squeeze a little tighter at the tip, twisting a little, and making Kento see stars.
"Hah--haaaaah-- don't-- don'tstop-- better than any dream-- good girl, please, please--"
Your thumb swiped without warning across a bead of wetness that had seeped from the slit in his tip, and Kento swore, bucking hard enough to make you chirp and grip his thighs for purchase.
"--wait--wait-- I'll spill in your hand, wait--"
This didn't deter you; if anything, it spurred you on to faster and faster strokes. Kento writhed, sweating and gripping, and you watched the heavy balls beneath his length tighten up, and--
"--ungh--coming--don'tstop...unh--"
Kento's whole body tensed. His face fixed in divine ecstasy. You watched his length jerk in your fist with thick, warm glugs of sticky white seed. You stared, your new obsession making you want to stroke Kento's release between your folds, but you held him instead, feeling him rut into your fist to chase his high.
After what felt like a lifetime, Kento came back to earth, with a heavy chest. While lax, for now, something in the way he looked at you, kneeling above him and examining the way his release dripped down your forearm, told you he was barely sated.
"Always were a...a fast learner."
"Well, you always wrote me off as a child--"
"I did not," Kento huffed, a mortified, angry flush colouring his cheekbones, "I knew exactly the woman you were. I do not lust after girls. If I didn't separate you, I knew I would...I knew we would..."
You nodded. You had both fought to convince yourself against such inevitability. Pondering, and curiously disappointed in the aftermath of Kento's pleasure, you stroked his slippery length in your hand again.
"You're...still hard."
Kento's eyes flicked down, that animalistic hunger taking seed in his eyes again. When he spoke, it was low, and barely measured.
"It would not usually, but-- but feeling you above me, so close that I could flip you over and trap you beneath me, I--"
You felt your breath leaves your lungs at once. Kento winced, disgusted with himself, but you snatched it away before it could take root.
"Please-- I want that, please--"
"With all this seed, and more to come after I bury myself inside you, you will be with child within days," Kento spat, gripping your cum-slick wrists to stop you stroking another orgasm out of him. Kento froze; having been about to throw you off, he saw the look in your eyes. The look of willingness. That sheer determination that had taken you as his apprentice in the first place.
"You like that," he mused aloud, enraptured as you lifted your undergown away to reveal yourself in your entirety. With your wrists gripped in one broad hand, the other stroked down between your breasts, to settle, stroking, on the soft plush of belly just above your mound.
"You...like that? The thought of a part of me, growing inside you? The thought of me spilling myself so deep, it has nowhere to go but your belly?"
The thought made you lightheaded. Why? Why was the thought of the same sticky release that coated your hands, inside you instead, so alluring? Beast in fine tailoring a beast in fine tailoring a beast--
Kento rolled you over. The strength you always knew he had, carefully restrained by waistcoat and pocket chains, bore down upon you now. He kicked away his trousers, desperate to be as bare as you, and brought his sheets over his hips to bury you both in a warm little den. You shivered to feel his length rest on your belly and mound, so close to where you wanted him.
Kento shook his head, trying to see logic, "If I finish inside you-- you really will be in danger of bearing my child, you..."
His voice had faded, gobsmacked as you stroked your seed covered fingers between your folds, mulish and clipped.
"There," you snipped, "I've already covered myself in you, so that's that--"
"You are utterly feral, this is what I get for bringing a guttersnipe into my workshop--"
"--so you might as well just finish the deed, sir, because--"
Kento laughed, overjoyed by your fearless audacity. His lip curled, and he reached down again to stroke his sticky seed between your folds.
"You think that's what I meant by inside?" He pressed, so close to the entrance you had never sought to penetrate, "You think I meant here? No, my love...I meant here."
You squeaked to feel Kento press one thick finger at your entrance. You felt the briefest sting of resistance, felt yourself clench and buck. Kento stopped, and pressed a first kiss to your lips, so sweet that you rushed through a wildflower meadow in summer.
He stroked circles just inside your entrance, loosening you with the slick of his seed, and kissing you with an intimacy that felt so much more than all the sordid deeds you had stolen from each other so far.
"And when I say 'here'," Kento continued, his breathing getting heavier, "I meant deeper. Much deeper than my fingers could reach. In truth, I would rather break your maidenhood with my cock, than my fingers. Some...filthy little part of me, I think. I loathe it. But, since we are well past being dishonest with each other..."
"Want that, please--" you babbled, squeaking with the promise of being filled with the rod you felt dragging on your belly, "--please, do it, I need to know, need you--"
"You beg like you mean to corrupt," Kento grumbled, pressing a little harder against your entrance and shivering as you squeaked, "I was a good man before this...I think. Shhhh, shh shh...that's it...soften you up...good girl."
"Not a girl," you gasped, your voice breaking and your nails digging into Kento's shoulders. He laughed, a full, rich, deep laugh of genuine delight. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his fingers were replaced by his cockhead.
"You are right," he rumbled, nuzzling his nose to yours again, "you're certainly not. At least...you won't be, in a moment." Nose to nose with you, and whispering into your mouth, Kento pressed insistently forwards, "Hold onto me."
You did, feeling a brief sting, and stretched and stretched and stretched and--...full. You whimpered, bringing your legs around Kento to embrace all of him to you. He grunted, and gasped, pulled to bottom out within you, when he had meant to take you slowly. You clung him inside you as he moved to pull out, and begged, afraid it was already over.
"Nonono-- don't come out-- stay--"
Kento bucked into you involuntarily, and groaned a godless sound, arching up and gripping the headboard, white-knuckled.
"Got to-- got to move, to-- to finish...but at this rate--Christ, you'll kill me-- god, can't-- can't finish straight away like a boy--"
If the pleasure of being locked into the warm, wet drag of your pussy hadn't almost taken Kento to the edge, the way you looked up at him with glassy adoration would. He moaned again, another certain stepping stone to damnation.
One more glance at you had Kento planting one forearm above your head, and plaiting his fingers with yours upon the pillow. He gasped, trying not to take you too roughly, and finally, whispered again.
"Hold onto me."
Smooth, and fluid, and with the barest scraps of self control, you saw stars to feel Kento drag his cock back to your entrance, only to fill you again. You felt the thickfriction drag, and its bursts of belly-deep pleasure than rendered you oddly submissive. You revelled in it; drugged, and sighing, your eyes slipping closed.
The drunken animal in Kento had returned in force.
"...feels...weird...good--- don't stop, Ken--"
"--sh-shit, won't last-- I'm sorry--"
Kento watched you in wonderment. Whatever pleasure your ripe core gave him, could not compare to that given to him by your face; your mewls, and sighs, and whispers.
You couldn't seem to whisper his name, though; it tasted so sweet upon your tongue, that you could not bear to let it go.
You could feel Kento losing his ragged self-control. Watching your face, the plush bounce of your breasts, and the way your thighs spread against your belly every time he fucked into you, was an otherworldly delight. You took it; gladly. Your pleasure built strangely-- deeper, and more powerful, and yet not quite enough.
Your fingers sauntered down your belly. In your addled, fucked-into state, you barely noticed what you were doing. Kento noticed, though, and growled, a droplet of sweat dropping from his forehead between your breasts. His thrusts deepened, harder and faster and desperate for orgasm.
"F-fuck...just like that...just like you do at night-- my name--"
"Ke...Ken--"
"My name."
"Kento," you half-sobbed, lost in his promise to fill you with the sticky cum that had dropped down your hand, "please--pleasepleaseplease--"
"--the begging, fuck, I'm-- I'm done, I'm-- ungh, fuck--"
You knew Kento must be finishing. You felt him twitching, and jerking, within the snug gripping heat of your cunt, ruined by him as per his promise. You felt the curious warm spill somewhere deep inside you.
You knew the look of bliss upon his face. Your fingers, still rolling the remnants of his seed around your clit, moved faster and faster and faster--
You arched, seconds after Kento's own peak had begun, into your own. You heard the headboard crack under Kento's grip, heard the rhythmic, fractured moans that may have been his and may have been yours, too lost were you both in oblivion.
The world may have completed one full turn. Struggling to hold himself up, Kento shook, dopey and half-asleep after filling you as he had threatened. You locked him within you, and held him like a lead blanket, nuzzling into his throat.
"Just...stay there. Stay. I like it."
"That feels...indecent," Kento mumbled into your neck. His uncharacteristic colloquialism was winding back again, and you felt the clipped man in the waistcoat and pocket chain returning to earth. You whispered, to his devilish laugh.
"How are we supposed to make watches together after that?"
"Carefully. Very, very carefully. As husband and wife."
"...oh."
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juls-art · 8 months ago
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-- *✧Support me!✧* *✧Tip me for a job well done! ✧*
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[Class Swap] Von Lavellan | Tempest
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apanict · 6 months ago
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my personal dragon age canon goes like
Origins: guy with a supernatural amount of rizz accidently becomes important at work and sigmas their way through gathering enough insane people to support them while they cure the super plague by beating the fuck out of it
2: worlds saddest wettest refugee has so much parentified older sibling energy that a bunch of freak outcasts imprint on them because they all live in Facism City where Everything is Fucked and Everybody Sucks
Inquisition: guy gets kidnapped by the pope's personal assistant to serve as Jesus 2 but it's fine because as it turns out if christians think you're Jesus 2 they'll do whatever you ask them to. which is really helpful if you happen to be the only competent person trying to prevent reality from unraveling
Veilguard: local intern accidentally becomes boss by being just so goddamn full of love that they can just bat their eyelashes and people keep pledging fealty to them and following them home. Their love for the world itself burns so bright and true that they not only kill 2 gods (with the power of friendship and this knife they found) but guilt trip the worlds #1 sunken cost fallacy truther into giving up his genocidal thousand year plan to go sit in time out
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100jewels-between-teeth · 8 months ago
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A semi-comprehensive list of every pre-established lore inaccuracy in Dragon Age: The Veilguard
Please note, this isnt me saying you cannot enjoy the game for what it is. This is not me saying you shouldnt play the game. But as a long time Dragon Age fan (started with Origins, has consumed all extra media including books/shows/novellas/etc..) the way Veilguard has fumbled the lore is, to someone who cares, infuriating. I shall keep the list under a read more to avoid spoilers for Veilguard. This will also be added to with more points that are given for people who wish to add
But without further adieu;
Bioware Kind of Forgot...
Bioware kind of forgot...
That Solas, after you choose to drink from the Well of Mythal (whom in Veilguard is confirmed either a lover/mother figure) is fucking pissed
That Solas was not bringing down the Veil to move the Evenuris and put them somewhere else, but to establish the ancient elves once more
The fucking orbs
That the elves were currently, at the end of inquisition, beginning the elf uprising and following Solas
the Elvhen Language
Solas having an extensive spy network that never gets brought up
That most of the Elves would be on board with Solas's plan
Brialla and how she controls Eluvians too
That in Inquisition, it is stated that barely any working Eluvians exist and that the one in Skyhold and the one in the temple of Mythal are extremely rare
The Valaslin and how if all of what happened is common knowledge, that the elves arent currently freaking the fuck out that they are wearing slave markings
Solas does not abhor the use of Blood Magic
That the Evanuris were trapped/locked in the Black City specifically and not the fade in general, so Solas would have to open the Veil either at the doors of the Black City or travel. The gods would not be wandering around the Fade
Using the lore/logic confirmed in Veilguard, the ancient elves being spirits that, with the help of lyrium, were made into elven form, that Cole should technically be one of the most powerful creatures known to man since they gave themselves a human body without the assistance of Lyrium. Bioware kind of forgot...
Slavery in Tevinter (really now there are no slaves shown in Minrathous?)
Varric hates the deeproads/dwarves so why is he so okay with Harding's magic
Hawke in general
Varric is a world famous author so someone would have mentioned his death at some point?????
how the fucking Blight works (seriously the entire party is infected with the Blight)
How spirits work
Morrigan never wanted to become a vessel for Mythal and despises the thought
The Antivan crows bought/tortured child slaves and children from brothels, to be trained as crows, basically nullifying all of the trauma Zevran had gone through
Fenris freeing slaves, still
In the final battle they refer to the head of the Imperial chantry as the "Divine" when it should be the "Black Divine"
That Thedas has two moons
More shall be added with discovery
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our-happygirl500-fan · 1 year ago
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Various pieces of information from the Rise Q&A back in February
It was revealed that there are other Hidden Cities other than the one seen in Rise & there had been plans for the Turtles to visit the Hidden City beneath Tokyo.
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2. Splinter was able to use Leo's mystic odachi so easily due to the fact that Splinter had spent a lot of time in the Hidden City & because of this Splinter has a great deal of mystic knowledge, with Splinter also having developed his mystic abilities but he has stopped using those abilities until the events of the series.
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3. More information was given about the missing Turtle Siblings & it was stated the Frida, Big Mama's Assistant would have most likely joined her brothers during the future timeline, it was also stated that the other missing Turtle Sibling would have possibly been named Camille after Camille Claudel.
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4. When asked on how a Dungeons & Dragons episode would go it was stated that April would be the DM, Raph would be a fighter class, Mikey would be an illusionist, Leo would be an assassin or thief & Donnie would insist on being a scientist since he's sure that there was 'at least one sensible person back then'.
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5. The Rise version of Renet could have possibly been used to explore different timelines that might have happened if certain events in the movie had happened differently.
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6. After the events of the movie Casey is traveling around the world fighting remnants of the Krang & the Foot Clan.
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7. When asked about the Turtle's relationship with Draxum it was stated that in contrast to Mikey who accepted Draxum the most easily, Leo is the most skeptical however it was also stated that Leo would have eventually 'gotten over' his grudge towards Draxum as there were multiple scrapped episodes planned where Leo & Draxum would have been forced to work together.
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8. There were plans for the Turtles to eventually go to the Krang's original dimension meaning that it would have been likely for the Turtles to encounter the traditional dimension X/Z stuff such as the Neutrinos.
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9. When asked about Casey Junior's relationship with the past/ present version of Leo it was stated that despite it being slightly different due to them being around the same age now Casey Junior can't help but still view Leo as a father figure.
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10. It was stated that Splinter has never celebrated the Turtle's Birthdays in the past due to it being to closely related to his negative feelings towards his own mutation however it was also stated that after Splinter's development in the series he would start celebrating the Turtle's Birthday with them.
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11. The reason that the Future Version of Leonardo was the one who raised Casey Junior was stated that it was due to the fact that the Future Version of Leonardo had a special affinity for Casey Junior & also felt particularly responsible for Casey Junior after his mother was gone.
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12. When asked what the Rise version of Miyamoto Usagi would have been like it was revealed that a possible plan for Usagi was that his home dimension would have been overrun by the Krang causing Usagi to travel to the Turtles dimension for help due to them being the only ones who have ever defeated the Krang.
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13. When discussing crossovers between TMNT iterations it was stated that a crossover between Rise & the 1987 cartoon or the 2003 cartoon would have been a possibility due to them also being 2D animated series.
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14. April & Sunita were planned to have more 'girls night' episodes together.
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It was also stated that Casey would have possibly have developed a dynamic with both April & Sunita so there is also a possibility that Casey would have been included in the 'girls night' episodes with April & Sunita as well.
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ms-demeanor · 2 years ago
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Why reblog machine-generated art?
When I was ten years old I took a photography class where we developed black and white photos by projecting light on papers bathed in chemicals. If we wanted to change something in the image, we had to go through a gradual, arduous process called dodging and burning.
When I was fifteen years old I used photoshop for the first time, and I remember clicking on the clone tool or the blur tool and feeling like I was cheating.
When I was twenty eight I got my first smartphone. The phone could edit photos. A few taps with my thumb were enough to apply filters and change contrast and even spot correct. I was holding in my hand something more powerful than the huge light machines I'd first used to edit images.
When I was thirty six, just a few weeks ago, I took a photo class that used Lightroom Classic and again, it felt like cheating. It made me really understand how much the color profiles of popular web images I'd been seeing for years had been pumped and tweaked and layered with local edits to make something that, to my eyes, didn't much resemble photography. To me, photography is light on paper. It's what you capture in the lens. It's not automatic skin smoothing and a local filter to boost the sky. This reminded me a lot more of the photomanipulations my friend used to make on deviantart; layered things with unnatural colors that put wings on buildings or turned an eye into a swimming pool. It didn't remake the images to that extent, obviously, but it tipped into the uncanny valley. More real than real, more saturated more sharp and more present than the actual world my lens saw. And that was before I found the AI assisted filters and the tool that would identify the whole sky for you, picking pieces of it out from between leaves.
You know, it's funny, when people talk about artists who might lose their jobs to AI they don't talk about the people who have already had to move on from their photo editing work because of technology. You used to be able to get paid for basic photo manipulation, you know? If you were quick with a lasso or skilled with masks you could get a pretty decent chunk of change by pulling subjects out of backgrounds for family holiday cards or isolating the pies on the menu for a mom and pop. Not a lot, but enough to help. But, of course, you can just do that on your phone now. There's no need to pay a human for it, even if they might do a better job or be more considerate toward the aesthetic of an image.
And they certainly don't talk about all the development labs that went away, or the way that you could have trained to be a studio photographer if you wanted to take good photos of your family to hang on the walls and that digital photography allowed in a parade of amateurs who can make dozens of iterations of the same bad photo until they hit on a good one by sheer volume and luck; if you want to be a good photographer everyone can do that why didn't you train for it and spend a long time taking photos on film and being okay with bad photography don't you know that digital photography drove thousands of people out of their jobs.
My dad told me that he plays with AI the other day. He hosts a movie podcast and he puts up thumbnails for the downloads. In the past, he'd just take a screengrab from the film. Now he tells the Bing AI to make him little vignettes. A cowboy running away from a rhino, a dragon arm-wrestling a teddy bear. That kind of thing. Usually based on a joke that was made on the show, or about the subject of the film and an interest of the guest.
People talk about "well AI art doesn't allow people to create things, people were already able to create things, if they wanted to create things they should learn to create things." Not everyone wants to make good art that's creative. Even fewer people want to put the effort into making bad art for something that they aren't passionate about. Some people want filler to go on the cover of their youtube video. My dad isn't going to learn to draw, and as the person who he used to ask to photoshop him as Ant-Man because he certainly couldn't pay anyone for that kind of thing, I think this is a great use case for AI art. This senior citizen isn't going to start cartooning and at two recordings a week with a one-day editing turnaround he doesn't even really have the time for something like a Fiverr commission. This is a great use of AI art, actually.
I also know an artist who is going Hog Fucking Wild creating AI art of their blorbos. They're genuinely an incredibly talented artist who happens to want to see their niche interest represented visually without having to draw it all themself. They're posting the funny and good results to a small circle of mutuals on socials with clear information about the source of the images; they aren't trying to sell any of the images, they're basically using them as inserts for custom memes. Who is harmed by this person saying "i would like to see my blorbo lasciviously eating an ice cream cone in the is this a pigeon meme"?
The way I use machine-generated art, as an artist, is to proof things. Can I get an explosion to look like this. What would a wall of dead computer monitors look like. Would a ballerina leaping over the grand canyon look cool? Sometimes I use AI art to generate copyright free objects that I can snip for a collage. A lot of the time I use it to generate ideas. I start naming random things and seeing what it shows me and I start getting inspired. I can ask CrAIon for pose reference, I can ask it to show me the interior of spaces from a specific angle.
I profoundly dislike the antipathy that tumblr has for AI art. I understand if people don't want their art used in training pools. I understand if people don't want AI trained on their art to mimic their style. You should absolutely use those tools that poison datasets if you don't want your art included in AI training. I think that's an incredibly appropriate action to take as an artist who doesn't want AI learning from your work.
However I'm pretty fucking aggressively opposed to copyright and most of the "solid" arguments against AI art come down to "the AIs viewed and learned from people's copyrighted artwork and therefore AI is theft rather than fair use" and that's a losing argument for me. In. Like. A lot of ways. Primarily because it is saying that not only is copying someone's art theft, it is saying that looking at and learning from someone's art can be defined as theft rather than fair use.
Also because it's just patently untrue.
But that doesn't really answer your question. Why reblog machine-generated art? Because I liked that piece of art.
It was made by a machine that had looked at billions of images - some copyrighted, some not, some new, some old, some interesting, many boring - and guided by a human and I liked it. It was pretty. It communicated something to me. I looked at an image a machine made - an artificial picture, a total construct, something with no intrinsic meaning - and I felt a sense of quiet and loss and nostalgia. I looked at a collection of automatically arranged pixels and tasted salt and smelled the humidity in the air.
I liked it.
I don't think that all AI art is ugly. I don't think that AI art is all soulless (i actually think that 'having soul' is a bizarre descriptor for art and that lacking soul is an equally bizarre criticism). I don't think that AI art is bad for artists. I think the problem that people have with AI art is capitalism and I don't think that's a problem that can really be laid at the feet of people curating an aesthetic AI art blog on tumblr.
Machine learning isn't the fucking problem the problem is massive corporations have been trying hard not to pay artists for as long as massive corporations have existed (isn't that a b-plot in the shape of water? the neighbor who draws ads gets pushed out of his job by product photography? did you know that as recently as ten years ago NewEgg had in-house photographers who would take pictures of the products so users wouldn't have to rely on the manufacturer photos? I want you to guess what killed that job and I'll give you a hint: it wasn't AI)
Am I putting a human out of a job because I reblogged an AI-generated "photo" of curtains waving in the pale green waters of an imaginary beach? Who would have taken this photo of a place that doesn't exist? Who would have painted this hypersurrealistic image? What meaning would it have had if they had painted it or would it have just been for the aesthetic? Would someone have paid for it or would it be like so many of the things that artists on this site have spent dozens of hours on only to get no attention or value for their work?
My worst ratio of hours to notes is an 8-page hand-drawn detailed ink comic about getting assaulted at a concert and the complicated feelings that evoked that took me weeks of daily drawing after work with something like 54 notes after 8 years; should I be offended if something generated from a prompt has more notes than me? What does that actually get the blogger? Clout? I believe someone said that popularity on tumblr gets you one thing and that is yelled at.
What do you get out of this? Are you helping artists right now? You're helping me, and I'm an artist. I've wanted to unload this opinion for a while because I'm sick of the argument that all Real Artists think AI is bullshit. I'm a Real Artist. I've been paid for Real Art. I've been commissioned as an artist.
And I find a hell of a lot of AI art a lot more interesting than I find human-generated corporate art or Thomas Kincaid (but then, I repeat myself).
There are plenty of people who don't like AI art and don't want to interact with it. I am not one of those people. I thought the gay sex cats were funny and looked good and that shitposting is the ideal use of a machine image generation: to make uncopyrightable images to laugh at.
I think that tumblr has decided to take a principled stand against something that most people making the argument don't understand. I think tumblr's loathing for AI has, generally speaking, thrown weight behind a bunch of ideas that I think are going to be incredibly harmful *to artists specifically* in the long run.
Anyway. If you hate AI art and you don't want to interact with people who interact with it, block me.
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theplotmage · 11 months ago
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Fantasy Royal Hierarchy & Government Explained for Dummies
👑 The Royal Hierarchy:
High King/High Queen: The ultimate ruler of all the lands. Addressed as “Your Majesty.” They oversee multiple kingdoms and have the final say in all matters.
King/Queen: The rulers of individual kingdoms. Addressed as “Your Majesty.” They manage their own territories, make laws, and lead their armies into epic battles.
Prince/Princess: The children of the king and queen. Addressed as “Your Highness.” They’re next in line for the throne and often have their own mini-kingdoms to practice ruling.
Duke/Duchess: High-ranking nobles who control large regions within the kingdom. Addressed as “Your Grace.” They’re like the regional managers, handling local governance and military affairs.
Marquess/Marchioness: Nobles who oversee border territories. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re responsible for defending the kingdom’s edges and often have a mix of military and administrative duties.
Earl/Countess: Nobles who manage smaller regions within the kingdom. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re like the middle managers, ensuring everything runs smoothly in their areas.
Viscount/Viscountess: Nobles who assist earls and countesses. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They’re like the assistant managers, helping with local governance and administration.
Baron/Baroness: The lowest rank of nobility. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” They control small areas of land and are responsible for local justice and order.
Lord/Lady: A general title for nobility. Addressed as “Lord” or “Lady.” Lords and ladies can hold various ranks and responsibilities within the kingdom.
Government Structure:
🏛️ The Council: A group of high-ranking nobles and advisors who help the king or queen make important decisions. Think of them as the board of directors.
🧙 The Wizard: The royal advisor with magical powers. They provide wisdom, cast spells, and sometimes meddle in politics.
⚔️ The Knight Commander: The head of the royal army. They lead the knights and soldiers into battle and ensure the kingdom’s defense.
📜 The Chancellor: The head of the kingdom’s finances and administration. They manage the treasury, collect taxes, and oversee the kingdom’s bureaucracy.
🎭 The Bard: The kingdom’s storyteller and historian. They spread news, sing songs of heroism, and keep the royal family’s image sparkling.
Other Classes:
🌳 Elves: Graceful and wise, elves often serve as advisors, scholars, or elite warriors. They have a deep connection to nature and magic, making them invaluable in both court and battlefield.
🌾 Peasants: The backbone of the kingdom. They work the land, pay taxes, and sometimes get caught up in the schemes of the nobility. Despite their humble status, they can be heroes in their own right.
💀 Necromancers: Masters of death magic. They can raise the dead, drain life energy, and command undead minions. Often feared and misunderstood, they can be powerful allies or dangerous enemies.
📚 Scholars: Also known as sages, librarians, or loremasters. Scholars are the kingdom’s intellectuals, possessing encyclopedic knowledge. They study ancient texts, advise on matters of history and magic, and often uncover secrets that can turn the tide of events.
⚔️ Heroes: Brave individuals who embark on epic quests. They can come from any class—knights, peasants, elves, or even necromancers. Heroes are defined by their courage, skill, and willingness to face danger for the greater good.
🙏 Priests/Priestesses: Spiritual leaders who serve the gods and goddesses of the realm. They perform rituals, offer guidance, and sometimes wield divine magic. Addressed as “Father,” “Mother,” or “Your Holiness”.
🐉 Dragons: Sometimes pets, sometimes pests. Always epic. They can be guardians of treasure, wise advisors, or terrifying foes.
Servants and Other Castle Inhabitants:
Steward: Manages the household and estate. Addressed as “Master Steward.”
Chamberlain: Oversees the private chambers and personal needs of the lord or lady. Addressed as “Master Chamberlain.”
Marshal: In charge of the stables and the training of knights. Addressed as “Master Marshal.”
Cook: Prepares meals for the household. Addressed as “Master/Mistress Cook.”
Maid: Responsible for cleaning and maintaining the castle. Addressed as “Mistress Maid.”
Squire: A young noble training to become a knight. Addressed as “Squire.”
Falconer: Takes care of the hunting birds. Addressed as “Master Falconer.”
Gardener: Maintains the castle gardens. Addressed as “Master/Mistress Gardener.”
Where They Dwell:
🏰 Castle: A fortified structure built for defense and residence. It includes towers, walls, a keep, and often a moat. The castle is the main residence of the king or queen and their court.
🏛️ Court: The royal household and the place where the king or queen holds court. It includes the throne room, great hall, and various chambers for the nobles and advisors.
🏡 Manor: The residence of a noble, usually a lord or lady. It’s less fortified than a castle and focuses more on comfort and domestic life.
Pro Tips:
Royal Drama: Expect lots of intrigue, secret plots, and power struggles. It’s like a medieval reality show.
Magic: Always a wildcard. It can solve problems or create new ones.
Quests: Royals love sending heroes on epic quests. It’s their way of handling problems without getting their hands dirty.
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2K notes · View notes
livelaughlovesubs · 9 months ago
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~ 04.10 - Neuvillette ~
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Dom!reader x sub!Neuvillette - reader is gender neutral
Warning: boss (neuvi) /assistant (us) relationship, neuvi & reader are both virgins~, vent fingering, bathtub, heat (implied), dragon anatomy, rubbing his dicks together, mind break, sub space, breaking into his house (lol)
~ Word count: 6.8k ~
Nini!rant: special thanks to @sh1-n0bu for explaining her reptile kink to me <3
Kinktober list 2024
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It was sunny on that day, no clouds were in sight, only the clear blue sky could be seen. The bustling sounds of the people are echoing from every corner, whispers akin to the buzzing of bees reached your ears. “Did you hear…” one of the shopkeepers murmured, “our archon, she…” another person commented. As always, people seemed to love gossip or rumors.
You couldn’t blame them, their curiosity was justified. Normally you would have wanted to eavesdrop a little more, but not this time, because you had other things to worry about. Today you were going to get a different position at work, all you hoped for was that it wouldn’t be worse than the previous one. You took the elevator upstairs, then made your way to your workplace, where you’ll have to deal with nasty higher-ups again.
If it were for you, you’d fire them all, every single one of them couldn’t do anything yet bosses their subordinates around like they are worth less than dirt. Not to mention all those unreasonable rules, who in their right mind would remember them all? After a short walk, you reached the Palais Mermonia. Hectic footsteps emerged from the building, the source was without fail beneath that unnecessarily huge door. With a final sigh, you opened that door and went inside.
First things first, since they told you that you were going to go to a new department, you had to wait in front of the office of your boss until he assigned you a new role. He was the chief justice of fontain and thus had his own room. It was the last chamber on the right. When it was finally your turn, you heard someone else opening the heavy entrance and walking in. No, not just one, many people, a big group of them, alongside photographers snapping pictures.
That wasn’t your business, so you ignored it and went on with your own life. You put on a fake smile as you greeted that old, insufferable boss of yours, “Good morning Monsieur, what can I do for you?” Your soft and calm tone, honed to perfection, was as flawless as ever. Not a single soul could guess your true feelings beneath that facade. Slowly you got closer to his desk, and he finally notices you.
“You are here, y/n.” He noted, without returning your greeting. “You know you are getting a new job, an important one at that. Don’t fail me.” That man said as he stared right into your eyes, a poor try to intimidate you. “Yes, I understand. May I know the nature of my work?” Despite his impoliteness, you replied in a professional manner. In truth you were sick and tired of this, why did they always have to beat around the bush? It was such a waste of time.
If in the end you have to work overtime because this superior of yours won’t stop yapping, you were really going to throw hands.
“You will see soon.” He said and pointed toward the couch on the left side of the room. You sat down on it soon after, not questioning all this strange behavior. How you hated this, but regrettably the pay was too good. After a short while, the door opened, and the crowd's screams seeped into the room. It got muffled again when the door got closed, the only sounds remaining were the footsteps of two individuals.
You didn’t think much about it and stayed seated, your boss on the other hand got up immediately and welcomed the two guests with open arms. He put on a cheerful air as he said, “Welcome! Thank you for taking the time to visit this humble place, our dearest hydro archon! You as well… errr.. Monsieur!”
Wait what?
Did you hear that right? The hydro archon, focalor? What is she doing here! How could it be that someone like you would be granted the chance to meet her in such a close and intimate setting? This has to be a joke, this has to be- “no need to thank us, please, I have to be the modest one in this situation.” She spoke, her voice was soft like silk, she’d be a great singer. “No way, I’d never dare to disrespect our archon like that. Y/n, you come here too and greet our archon!”
You heard that man call out to you, so you hurried over. There she was, a lady with beautiful long silver-white hair who owned a strong aura. This was no joke, she was the real deal. “Please excuse this citizen, I humbly greet the hydro archon.” You bowed, trying your utmost to be the best version of yourself. From the corners of your eyes, you saw a tall male standing behind the archon. He also looked important, as well as strong.
The way he stood there was confident and serious, something about him told you he wasn’t human. That feeling was supported by his appearance. Putting aside the fact that he was astonishingly beautiful, his hair was also long and white, and some blue strands could be seen on top of his head. Also, he was definitely filthy rich, his clothes were the top quality and looked like the meticulous work of a private designer. Just what did you put yourself into?
Focalor smiled gently, a parent-like smile as she spoke, “It’s alright, I should thank you for taking care of my friend here. Please do your best.” Now you were genuinely confused, this was beyond your comprehension. Was it something only high-ranking people understand? Was it a quiz? You don’t remember helping someone whose Titel was the friend of an archon.
Before you got the time to ponder over her words, she already explained it, saying, “From today onwards, my friend here will take over the job of chief justice. That means you’ll work under his command. But you see, he isn’t good with people, so I’d like to ask you to take care of him.” If this man here will become the new judge, then… you turned over to your now ex-superior, staring at him blankly. “I’ll retire soon, work hard y/n.” He said while smiling irritatingly, before patting you on the shoulder, as if he’s proud of you or something.
How you despised him. Did this really have to happen so spontaneously? Couldn’t they have given you a goddamn warning? A heads-up? You couldn’t get angry though, not in the presence of your deity. “I.. ehm, I accept this job with great gratitude.” You eventually uttered, not knowing what to do in such a situation. Well, you didn’t have a choice, did you?
“Good, how fabulous, then may I request for you to leave the room first?” The archon said as she turned over to look at your ex-boss, and he rushed out of the room just like how he rushed to them the moment he heard their footsteps. Somehow you wished he stayed because it was really suffocating standing there on your own. “I only have one more thing to discuss with you.” Focalor stated, before continuing with, “Can I ask you for a favor?”
You nodded in agreement, replying with a yes. “Could you teach him how to behave like a human? As you probably noticed, he isn’t of the same race as you, but I’d like for him to live among humans freely.” She smiled widely again, bringing forth a sense of comfort. Despite that, you were still hesitant and on edge. The words she voiced out; not human, teaching… it sounds like you’ll have a lot of extra work in the future. Also, how do you teach someone how to be human? Isn't it more of an instinct kind of thing, do you just tell him to have common sense?
“Great! It put me at ease to see my friend here got such a caring assistant, please take care of him in my stead.” Your archon smiled brightly, waving the other person goodbye as she left. Now this is awkward. You were standing face to face with your new superior, someone who was way more important than your previous boss. How great, this is only increasing the pressure at work. With a final sigh, you swallowed the nervousness down and began introducing yourself, “Nice to meet you, I’m y/n, and from today onwards I am your assistant, feel free to ask me anything.”
This should suffice, right? You had to adapt to your new position very quickly, to not seem unreliable, all you hoped for was that he wouldn’t be worse than the last one. “My name is Neuvillette, I’ll be in your care then.” He said while looking at you with his pretty eyes. His eye makeup was very beautiful, or were these markings?
Nonetheless, he was quite the eye candy compared to your ex-boss. Suddenly another concern popped up in your mind, what if he’s a player, or super arrogant? You quickly threw away these thoughts, it would be unfair to judge someone based on their appearance alone. Even though you still hesitated, you forced out a bright smile as always and uttered, “I’ll show you what kind of work you can expect.”
Contrary to what you feared, Neuvillette was very hard-working. He really wanted to do this job well, and he adapted to the position of chief justice very quickly as well. Less than a week later, he was ready to take on court cases and judge the convicts by himself. On the other hand, he didn’t understand humans and their emotions at all. It was difficult for him to learn their manners, especially the meaning of empathy.
He understood the basic concepts, like if someone lost something then they’d be sad. But why should their friend grieve with them as well, they didn't lose anything right? One of his problems was that he couldn’t read between the lines, so if someone didn’t tell him how they felt, he wouldn’t have the slightest clue.
You thought it was due to his rather emotionless nature since he never seemed happy or sad before. He always wore this serious and nonchalant expression, carrying out his duties with the utmost professionalism. He was the perfect judge who stayed clearheaded in every situation, and he was also a great superior. Just saying but, gosh, he finished his work so quickly it was amazing. Also one of the first things you taught him was how to be nice to one’s subordinates, and he’s been following your advice nicely.
Honestly? You enjoyed working under him. Your pay got raised, and you got to take care of a pretty boy. Sure, the hours increased by a bit, but it wasn’t as dramatic as you thought. Sometimes you’d even bring him lunch because you liked his attitude and wanted him to stay until you retire. It was also quite funny how dense he was, things that were normal for you were weird for him. Whenever you saw his perplexed face while studying humans, you couldn't help but chuckle under your breath.
One thing that you noticed after he came to fontain was how the weather worsened. Fontain wasn’t known for having long periods of bad weather, so it was strange how much it rained lately. Well, who knows, it probably doesn’t have a logical explanation behind it anyway. For now, you had to organize these court documents before handing them to 'monsieur' Neuvillette again, humming to yourself as you looked over them. Check.. and check, huh, looking good.
Now you had to find him, where could he be? He wasn’t at the Palais Mermonia, so perhaps he went on a walk? Or was he at his home? The next judgment was going to start in less than an hour, and the chief justice always had to arrive early, even if technically everyone would wait for him to start.
He mentioned to you before how he wished to do his work seriously, and that you had permission to do whatever to teach him if necessary. That’s why you were at his doorstep, knocking on the door while sweat formed on your forehead. You ran all the way here since you didn’t want his reputation to be tarnished by being late. The two of you would need to go to the opera house later as well, and that will take some time too. “Excuse me, Monsieur Neuvillette…?” You called out to him, no response. Weird.
Should you try and look through the windows? Or maybe he’s at the opera house already? That could be it, he has never been late after all. Before leaving completely, you tried to open the door just as a last resort, turning the doorknob. To your surprise, it opened, so the door wasn’t locked. “Huh..?” You gasped, feeling a little nervous now. Why was his door not locked, and should you really just walk inside? After pondering over it for a while you came to the conclusion, well, why not! If he was there, then you’ll quickly get him, and if not you’ll act like it never happened.
Since your reason was important as well, it should be all alright, right? With that being said, you carefully slandered through the halls of his house. His home was very modest, it didn’t reflect his position at all. With his authority, he could have gotten himself a mansion, but he settled for average? Nonetheless, you kept going, opening the doors carefully as if they were out of porcelain. Until you heard a noise. It was muffled through what seemed like a door, was Neuvillette still there or it was an intruder? Somehow you didn’t want to take another step anymore.
You eventually reached the root of the noise, and more sounds emerged from behind the door. It kind of gave you Deja vu, but you weren’t sure what exactly. After much consideration, you just simply opened that door, and warm air instantly hit your face. The room was so hot and full of condensed water, was it a bathroom or sauna?
You squeezed your eyes shut, then blindly entered the room, hands fluttering around to try and find something to hold on to. Then you touched something akin to porcelain, or was it acrylic? When you opened your eyes again, you stood right in front of Monsieur Neuvillette, who seemed to be sleeping in the bathtub. All naked.
It was an understatement to say you were stunned. You were so speechless that you didn’t move for a good minute. What should you do? He is sleeping and hasn’t noticed you yet, should you just wake him up? But this situation was kind of inappropriate. After all, you just intruded into his home and invaded his privacy. Time seemed to pass so slowly, yet you still haven’t come to a conclusion. In the end, you decided to stop being such a wimp and wake him up, then apologize to him a thousand times.
When you gradually got closer to him, you got a better look at his body. His skin was so perfect, smooth, and pale, like these models in magazines. Though he had scales located near his pelvis, which you thought was fascinating. So, when the hydro archon said ‘not human’, she meant a mermaid? There were no mermaid tails to see, perhaps he’s hiding them? Damn, how curious you were, even so, you decided to ask him later since you had other problems at hand. Gently, you nudged his body, hoping that would be enough to wake him up.
Nothing happened.
Then, you shook his shoulder, trying to be tender with him. Still nothing. You sighed, asking yourself what to do. A few moments later his eyelids twitched, and it shocked you to the core, you felt your soul leaving your body for a split second. Now that it has come to this, you were kind of embarrassed. Waiting patiently for him to notice your presence. “Uh.. y/n? What are you doing here?” Neuvillette asked, eyes still half-lidded as he slowly turned to look at you.
“I’m so sorry, Monsieur Neuvillette, but we have a court case in a few-” You stopped abruptly, noticing how his face was all red. “Are you alright, sir?!” In the blink of an eye, you reached out to his face and pressed your palm against his forehead, testing his temperature with your hand. He was burning, did he get a fever or was it because of the water? “This doesn’t look good.. should I postpone the court case?” You mumbled under your breath and pulled your hand back, not noticing the slight blush on his cheeks at your bold moves.
To your surprise, the male commented, “Your hand.. it’s cold, it feels nice.” It seems he really is sick, damn it, you should have taken better care of him. He probably got sick because he worked too much. “I’ll call a doctor, please wait a second.” You proposed, but he denied your idea. “It’s not a big deal, it’s probably because I've been bathing in hot water.” The boy said and stared up at you, his lashes were all wet just like his hair.
Despite the guilt gnawing at you, you had to admit he looked irresistible right now, and the fact that he was all naked was not helping. After more hesitation, your desire won against your reason, and your consciousness was killing you. Should you really do this? You kept asking yourself that question. The thing you were going to do, was it morally correct?
Before you found the answer to that question, you opened your mouth and said half-jokingly, "I understand. But, Monsieur Neuvillette, did you know? There is a very unique human custom that you haven't learned yet." His eyes widened a little, head tilted to the side as he mumbled, "Yes? And what is it?" You swallowed the guilt down your throat and responded, "Our current situation fits the requirements, so following that tradition.. uhm... we could do something… fun, if you want." Look at that unsure tone in your voice, were you trying to convince him or yourself?
Neuvillette looked at you in confusion, waiting for you to continue your story. Eventually, you did exactly that, whispering in a low voice, "It means I could, if you allow it… er, t-touch here..." Out of nowhere, your hand reached downwards, and the sound of water splashing around followed close behind. “Somewhere around here.” He could feel your fingertips brush over his pelvis, and a dark blush covered his face. "I-I see, is it... um, really a custom?" The male shyly looked away, he wasn't sure what to think about this, was it really a cultural thing?
At the same time, he was curious, he wanted to know how humans interacted and worked, so he had to experience it firsthand to understand them. "We don't have to if you don't want to try." You quickly told him, hoping that he was oblivious enough to believe that crazy story. Instead of agreeing, Neuvillette grabbed your wrist and brought it to his crotch. His cheeks were even redder than before as he admitted, "I— I want to try then... I want to learn more about humans."
You could swear you were getting dizzy as well, feeling your cheeks heat up at the sweet voice and erotic display of the male. The uncomfortable yet determined look on his face, and how his body was subconsciously begging you to touch him. Even so, he was your boss, should you really do something like this with him? Your hand kept lingering over his private area, itching to touch him but too worried to actually do it. “Hurry up..” he groaned, and any concerns you had dissipated. “Then.. please lay back and leave it to me.”
Gently, you told Neuvillette to let go of your wrist, and he stayed put all obediently. Seeing how easily he did as you said sent a shiver down your spine, and you started rubbing his belly, causing him to tremble slightly. Neuvillette closed his eyes and sealed his lips together. Your touches moved slowly but surely lower, until your delicate fingertips caressed the baby blue scales above his vent. His breath hitched in his throat, anticipation filling him as well as fear. From that moment onwards, he was yours. His heart beat like crazy, and all because of you, only for you.
On the other hand, you were amazed with his anatomy. The scales were hard and sturdy, but the more you rubbed those beautiful things, the more they softened. It only took a short moment before the male started panting quietly, eyes still pressed into a thin line as he refused to look at you, all due to his own embarrassment.
How cute, you thought. The way he was underneath you with his face flushed like some love-struck maiden encouraged you to go further. This was also how you found out his eyeliner wasn't makeup instead he was born that way. What a beautiful being he was, so breathtaking that he could be an angel sent from the heavens.
The water was clear like glass, you could see everything through it, from his vent to his milky thighs, all of it was laid bare for your eyes to feast on. At first, you wondered if he had a cunt since it looked like one but also not. It didn't bother you in the slightest though. Later on, when you got to the point where you caressed the scales right on his lips, you saw how two dicks slowly emerge from that slit. As if they grew inside him, to the point they were noticeable from the outside.
Right, if that wasn't astonishing enough, there were two? Hah, how incredible! He was really different from humans, and it only intrigued you even more. Neuvillette on the other hand looked so embarrassed, he was never this exposed to anyone, and he also never touched himself there. So you are the first to explore that area, to see this vulnerable, emotional side of his. His expressions were just so pretty~
The fact that he had two dicks was extraordinary, no doubt, but for now you were more invested in that vent of his. With little caresses that were akin to the soft crawls of a kitten without claws, you rubbed the edge of his cunt. "Uh- uhm..! Y/n, please be gen-gentle with me..." He pleaded in a weak voice, hands thrown over his mouth to hide his humiliating noises.
You nodded before caressing that part of him in earnest, and it was so soft, it was way softer than what you imagined. Honestly, you couldn’t even believe what the heck you were doing right now. Playing with him like this, the sheer audacity got you all nervous and lustful. This power struggle was really hot in your opinion. How did things even come to this point? He was only taking a bath, so how are you suddenly doing inappropriate things with him?
The only annoying thing was the water because it kept washing away his natural lubricants. God, you wanted to do so many things to him, to your boss nonetheless, you were so shameless. Then an idea crossed your mind, could you perhaps fit your finger inside that space? Why not try it out..? Gently, or as gently as you could since you had to squeeze a little, you managed to stick your middle finger inside him. It wasn’t even fully in him, yet he was already gasping and moaning.
Hands clenched around the edge of the bathtub, enough for his veins to become noticeable. His insides were so soft and squishy, and the way the edges clenched around your fingers as well as how his dicks twitched was just so erotic. The scales on either side were shining like peals, they had long become soft unlike before. You licked your bottom lip, feeling a sense of lust course through your body.
His pleasure-ridden expression brought you further down this hypnotizing feeling of want and need. “Wha-what is this..?” Neuvillette gasped, gazing at you with a look of confusion and embarrassment. Is this how it is supposed to feel? He did want you to touch him, but this was kind of shameful, yet he didn’t know why. It just felt inappropriate but amazing, he's not even sure if he should stop it or encourage you.
“Y/n… ah, I, mhmm!!” Right before he finished his sentence, you pushed your finger deeper into him, until your digit was buried in his vent to the knuckles. This was quite the fight, though it was worth it. His mouth hung wide open at this point and his entire being was shaking in ecstasy. After making sure he was doing alright, to some extent, you started moving your finger.
Of course, the poor and innocent Monsieur who had never had anyone touch him there yelped in surprise, he didn’t even know you could reach that deep inside! Oh but now he feels like he was being stretched to his limit, and filled to the brim. There was no way he could take any more than this, there was just no way. Your fingers felt so good, he was too ashamed to admit but he loved the feeling of clenching around them, that was all he knew.
He didn’t know the reason why it felt good, nor why he liked it, so he blamed it all on his instincts. "So this is why humans have this custom, it's because it feels so hot and, good..." Neuvillette uttered under his breath, drool was handing out from his lips already. Suddenly you curled them slightly, to press and poke at his soft walls. “Ah-…ah.?!” The dragon couldn’t help but mewl again, his thighs were trembling, causing the water inside the bathtub to splash around.
“This is so fun, isn't it, Monsieur Neuvillette~" You teased while pleasuring him with your finger. "Hu-huh..? uhh- I think so.. er, please address me in-informally in these settings..." He suddenly said, seemingly flustered at the fact that you were using his official title. His adorable words were so cute that you couldn't help yourself again, leading to you rubbing his spongy insides. “HnnGH!! Please… no mo-more..” the male then begged you so sweetly you thought you were going to overdose.
What a pitiful guy, tears were collecting in the corners of his eyes, threatening to spill at literally anything. Then it started to rain, the sound of soft raindrops hitting against the bathroom window served as nature's background music for you. “Aw, you want me to stop, Neuvillette?” His two dicks both twitched at the mere mention of his name, precum collecting around his aquamarine tip. Now that you mentioned it, his cocks were fading into blue from his base onwards.
On another note, Neuvi would have been all sticky with precum now if it wasn’t for the water neutralizing it. “I-I mean.. uhh, no, don’t stop haaah...” The male gently placed his hand on top of yours, trying to keep your touch from leaving his body. “I don’t plan on.” You admitted, then used your other hand to jerk off his dicks, taking both with one hand and rubbing them against each other.
“UgGhHH..!! Too much, too- mhm..!” He complained again, to which you responded with, “Aw, don’t be such a fuss, doesn’t it feel good?” There was no denying it because both of you knew he liked it a lot, his expressions revealed it all. “Nghh, i.. I mean-, uhMMm!” It almost annoyed him how his own moans kept interrupting his sentences. Seriously, it was difficult enough to talk and think about how to form coherent sentences, and then his humiliating whines just had to ruin it.
You were enjoying yourself. Oh, you definitely were. His beautiful silver hair was soaked in the water, shining as if stars descended just to decorate his locks. That handsome face of his was tainted with a bright pink, a huge contrast to his normally pale complexion. The tears which were on the verge of falling finally rolled down his cheeks, or was it just the water of the bathtub? Nonetheless, he looked pretty damn erotic in that moment, so beautiful you were dazed.
Neuvillette noticed you staring, which is why he avoided your gaze, feeling too ashamed to hold eye contact. Yes, he felt hot and was craving whatever you could give him, but this side of his was simply too pathetic and lewd! Gradually, the sound and intensity of the rain increased. It kept hitting the window, so you could hear how it got louder and louder, people also started to run under random roofs to keep themselves dry. After you were sure he got used to your finger, you tried to add another one.
“AhHhh! Mhm, no..! There is no-no space left...!” Once again he was trashing around, complaining, making water spill over, wetting you in the process. “Shh, it’s alright, you can do it Neuvillette, I’m sure you can.” You whispered some words of encouragement to him, praising him while you were at it. He heeded your words, trying hard to accommodate your second digit, because he wanted to do it for you. Eventually, he managed to fit both of them inside, even if it was a long journey, “Ah- ahh.. this is, mHffFhm.. your fingers feel to-too gooood♡♥︎?!”
The boy groaned and whimpered, sobbing behind a face of uncontrollable lust. Each of his moans were a blessing from the heavens for your ears, making your heart flutter as if you were going to enter paradise. He was such an angel after all, wasn’t he? That gorgeous white hair he got could be mistaken as a trait of an angel, not to mention his pure and virtuous personality, if he told you he was an envoy of god you would have believed him with no doubts.
“So stunning.” After thinking all of that, you couldn’t help but compliment him again, all while you stretched his vent with all the tenderness in the world. “NGhHh.. m- uhhmm, y/n, please, I want more..” Neuvillette begged you sweetly, eyes half-open as he embraced this perverted side of his. You were genuinely surprised by his words, you didn't expect to hear him plead for more, hence you stopped your movements for a split second. Damn it, you thought he was just an innocent little mermaid, but maybe there is more to it?
To be honest, you were really into all of this as well. Normally he was your superior whom you had to follow and obey like a loyal dog, but now he was like your cute and adorable little pet, begging for you to play with him. How unpredictable the world is, and you didn't mind it at all. Just looking at him was enough to make you happy, and now you got him wrapped around your finger like it. You were ecstatic!
While you were immersed in the perverted appearance of your boss, you subconsciously trusted your fingers in and out of him, ending with him crying out repeatedly and almost creating cracks in the acrylic due to his tight grip. “AaHHhh!! OOHHh..<3! Mhm, too muOochH, fa-fAasterrr.!♡♡♡~!!” At this point, you didn’t know what he was hoping and pleading for. His sentences have long been rid of any logic since he kept giving mixed signals. So all you did was coo at him and promise him that you’ll make him feel good.
His eyes rolled back to the back of his skull when you accidentally brushed over an especially sensitive spot deep inside him. Now he was truly blabbering nonsense, you could barely understand the meaning of his words. When you sneaked a peek at his face, you saw how he was basically melting. Like butter, slowly falling apart due to the heat. Your movements fastened again, repeatedly pushing your digits in and out of him at a quick pace.
You even caught yourself drooling because you were too concentrated on his expressions, how his features twisted into bliss. All due to you and your fingers. “Ahh.. nghHh, I- I can’t.. it’s so we-weird!” Neuvillette managed to groan out with much effort, his entire body was quivering as if electricity was coursing through him. “So-something is..! NghH, hMMn~ <3” Something? What did he mean by that? “Co-coming… it’s co-mHMm, coming out..♥︎~!!!” Ah, that’s what’s happening. Pff—
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his adorable antics, does he even know how cute he was? Carefully, you rubbed and pressed the tip of your fingers against that sweet spot inside him again, almost abusing that poor spot at this point with how much you were touching it. Each time you did that, he’d arch his back off from the bathtub, and his two bluish dicks would jump in excitement. Everything about him was just so cute! Sure, you were smitten with him from the moment you laid your eyes on him, but now you were sure you couldn’t turn back anymore.
How you wished you could devour him. He just looks so delicious, you could eat him out all day long if he allowed it. Not to mention the way his vent clenches around you and churns, it wouldn’t be an overstatement to say you were obsessed, addicted to him. The rest of his body was like a god’s creation as well, sculpted by the meticulous care of the lord.
Each muscle was defined but not overdone, his chest rising and sinking with each breath. His perky nipples also owned a beautiful shade of pink, standing up all proud as if inviting you to taste them. For a second there you were lost in your daydreams, totally hypnotized by the male in front of you. One of his moans managed to pull you out of it, reminding you of your current mission. “UgghHH! Oh-UHhh! Y/n, y/nnn♡♡♥︎!”Neuvillette gasped out for your name multiple times, hoping to reach you.
You’ve been squeezing and grazing his sensitive spots without providing him a break, who would be able to withstand all these currents of ecstasy while staying sane? Though, perhaps the poor hydro dragon wasn’t even in his right mind anymore. He couldn’t speak properly or think clearly, can you really call him sane at this point? No, he was a mess, a fool for your touch, an addict drowning in pleasure.
“Oh? My, I was distracted for a second, wasn't I? You are doing great, Neuvillette, keep going. Cum for me?” You praised him once you took in the situation, now pushing your fingers even deeper inside him, causing his heart to stand still for a second. It was as if his mind was breaking, his brain malfunctioning as hot tears rolled down his eyes and into the bathtub. The loud rain outside the house was picking up, becoming harder by the second.
“MhMNG..! Noo- hhGGNnNMm~ I- I’m aaAngGhh!!” High-pitched moans left his throat, they were more akin to screams of pure bliss than anything else. For a split moment, he could feel his consciousness fading away, blacking out before he returned to reality. Some kind of fluid squirted out of his dick, ending in more pleasure cascading through his veins. “GuHhh, Mhh-nghh...? Ahh, ahGnn y/n, y-y/n… ♡~" Neuvillette gagged and choked on his moans, crying hysterically while his cum kept gushing out of his swollen tip.
His legs shook violently, unable to fathom all these sensations and feelings. It was too much to handle! His orgasm washed over him in the most unexpected way possible, and he wasn’t ready for it. By no means he was, though he wouldn't have been ready until the next century. The consistency of his cum was thick and milky, it immediately sunk down to the bottom of the white bathtub. All his strength was gone as if they got robbed from him.
Neuvillette was limping at this point, his bottom a twitchy something where cum kept shooting out of his slit. You took a good look at him, his hair wet and sticking to his body, head thrown back as if he didn’t have enough strength to hold it up. Those cheeks, ears, and shoulders were all flushed pink, also his mouth was a little open due to his continuous groans. He was panting heavily, breathing still unstable. If you had to take a wild guess, he was probably still processing everything that happened as well as the emotions swirling inside him.
Slowly you took your fingers out, he only reacted minimally to the loss of contact. Eyelid twitching a little when the warmth of your digits subsided. You stared at him, at his fucked out and broken state. At that moment, you were sure he was the most attractive he had ever been. Ah. Suddenly you got reminded of the court case he was supposed to attend. Reality hits you like a door in your face. Wait, what time was it? Could you two still make it in time?
You looked at your pocket watch and.. damn it. 10 minutes until the case begins. There was no way you two would arrive on time, especially since you weren’t sure if he could even walk at this point. Then you noticed how he seems to be coming to his senses, so you gently brushed some strands of hair out of his fucked out face.
While doing that, you wore a worried expression across your features as you whispered, “Uh, first, I’m sorry for entering without permission. Your door was open so I was bold enough to enter, forgive me.” Neuvillette’s eyes widened, did he really make such a stupid mistake, for no reason? Well, he did feel a little hot today, maybe a bit out of it as well, but still. You then kept apologizing, saying, “Second, there is a course case in a few minutes, I’m so sorry for neglecting work.” Your tone was an apologetic one, feeling bad for ruining his great reputation.
To your surprise he didn’t seem bothered at all, instead, he looked away in shame. Probably at the thought of what he just did with you, his assistant. “Uh.. no, it’s fine.. I’m at fault too. I shouldn’t have… gotten you into this mess as well.” You instantly shook your head in opposition, “No no, it's on me. But may I ask, how are you feeling? Does anything feel sore?” His face heated up again and he blushed furiously, you were almost able to see smoke coming out of his head. “No I'm fine..” the male mumbled quietly, still avoiding your eyes.
Without wasting any more time, you proposed, “Then shall we hurry-” “No, it’s alright, y-y/n.” He interrupted you, his voice also stuttered and cracked up as he worded your name. God, he was adorable. “The reporter, who was supposed to be present at the trial, couldn’t make it. He got sick. I.. uh, I met his wife on my way to the opera, and she told me she was going to stop by your office to delay it to you.”
You blinked, once, then twice. So that’s why he wasn’t present. Right, your righteous and hard-working boss would never come too late, there must have been an outer influence. The reason why you didn’t know, was because you were working from home today so there was no way for the news to get delivered to you. What a misfortune, but, you got to do this and that with him, so in the end it was a good thing?
You could feel your own cheeks heat up now that everything was over, and the misunderstanding cleared up. “Err, then.. can I help you with anything else, Monsieur Neuvillette?!” Your voice came out accidentally too rough because you were panicking a little. Damn it.. dealing with the aftermath of your actions was kind of embarrassing. So you really.. did this and that.. haha. Damn your self-control, you even lied to him.
Luckily your kind chief didn’t take your rather loud voice as an insult, instead, he handled it gracefully and said, “It’s alright, I’m sorry that you had to see me in that state. Please wait in the living room while I get ready.” You nodded and left right after he finished his sentence, you figured he’d want a little privacy now that everything was over.
Without wasting much time, you left the bathroom. Slowly, the rain stopped, and everything calmed down again. The fog that was once surrounding everything has also disappeared now. After you left, Neuvillette sighed before slumping back into the water. Whatever just happened… argh, how embarrassing! Please never ever remind him of it, or he might go back to living with nature and Melusines again.
The dragon gazed out of the window, his heart pounding in his chest. He saw as well, how the rainy weather from before left, now replaced by the bright sun. Next time he should be more careful about closing doors and whatnot, even if he ends up enjoying this occasion. His cheeks flushed once again at the thought of you, and he hid under the water. How can he ever look you in the eyes again...?
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Tags: @ghostiegirl56 @thisisnotangel @ghostgoosygoose @i-dont-fooken-know @chuuya-brainrot @allyfoxglove @thigh-o-saur @fallenthemisticalyingyang @fem-dom-roze
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Nini!rant 2.0:
This is going to be a short one, just a quick explanation of the dragon anatomy. (What nobu explained to me)
So, it’s a vent right? Kinda like a vagina but without the clit and looking more like a hole. Then imagine two dicks coming out from the hole, both are curled towards the stomach and the one on top is a little shorter. The tip is rather pointy, with the form looking a little spiky as well? At the base, or the part that’s buried in the vent, it’s his skin colour, and towards the gland it fades into a clear blue, or even mystical purple. Around the veins it’d be slightly purple and it shines a little as if someone poured sparkles over it ✨
Instead of hair, he’d have scales, shiny blue ones (so pretty!!) that cover the entire area. It surrounds his vent and is quite sturdy when he isn’t erect, if you rub it long enough it will become softer. He can hide the two dicks inside his vent or take them out! And a fun fact or headcanon nobu told me was, dragons can only cum from one dick at a time, except they are reaaaally overstimulated.
This artist drew it basically how I imagine it - but they drew it without the vent
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wardensantoineandevka · 4 months ago
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I thinking about this again, and I still maintain it. I think having this structure and ability to make day to day decisions about logistics would be super helpful to not just Illario, but also Lucanis, who also isn't entirely suited to every aspect of the job but in a way that is opposite but complementary to Illario. It would be to everyone's benefit to let Illario do, like, basically Josephine's job but for House Dellamorte. (Okay, they're different jobs, but as a point of vaguely similar reference.)
We know that Lucanis is stressed about having to make small decisions all the time because he doesn't see why they matter and feels they're frivolous, like how to arrange the estate, and in a way they are but they're part of the concept of keeping up appearances and projecting an image and maintaining a certain level of prestige and wealth and social influence. Illario excels at these things, and I think passing it off to Illario in a capacity of a traditional secretary and executive assistant, or at least allowing Illario to advise him on the matter, would ease Lucanis's anxiety and difficulty with such things while also giving Illario a sense of control and structure and appreciated input he clearly craves to have.
We don't know precisely how strong Illario's administrative ability is, but it's possible to interpret his note about wanting to see the accounts and refusing to allow the house to fall into ruin as at minimum an interest in learning how. And, I think he should be allowed the opportunity even if I don't think he'd quite take to ALL of the Talon role. But, I think he'd do well handling the more finicky, social, daily logistics that Lucanis is not good with.
I think putting Illario in charge of the household logistics and behave as the liaison between Lucanis and the outside professional world would do wonders for Illario's needs and also Lucanis, who would benefit from having that buffer and having someone manage his time and determine what's worth spending energy on and can handle everything else. It provides Lucanis with someone who can advise him on social situations and navigating contacts and exercising influence while providing Illario a concrete place, trust, influence, and an direction in which to clearly use his talents in a way that produces clear results.
I had initially said this to someone half jokingly, but thinking about it, I do genuinely think Illario would do a great job as a secretary.
like, I think it plays to a bunch of his strengths. I feel like he'd do well if he was in charge of composing letters to achieve the desired outcome (including emotionally manipulative correspondence and veiled threats), managing the social calendar, and having an easy in to being an annoying sibling and snooping on Lucanis's personal letters.
he'd have to not see this as a silly lesser job or something, because it is something important and valuable in its own right, but then any positive path forward for him requires this anyway. I just think he'd actually do surprisingly well in this role.
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 11 months ago
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Thiis place is lacking in the cregan stark department! How about Cregan coming to his chambers to find his southern targ wife in the bath and he join in and offer to warming her up…iykwim
I have two other Cregan wip in my drafts. More is coming <3
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (both receiving), p + v, this is not foot fetish,
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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Warm water enveloped your body like a blanket, making you sigh as you laid your head back against the edge of the tub. The maids who drew your bath had offered to help scrub your body and wash your hair, but you told them you simply wanted to relax after today’s petitions. 
Although you spent your day sitting in a chair, it was exhausting. People’s requests and complaints were exhausting.
You closed your eyes, the crackling sound coming from the hearth and the lavender oils in the water creating a calm ambiance.
‘’Is there room for me?’’ Cregan’s deep voice inquired, standing across the tub. 
Startled, your eyes shot open, having not heard him enter your chambers or call out his greetings. 
A smile curled on your lips as you glanced up at your husband, the warm water in front of you sloshing a bit from the sudden movements. ‘’Always.’’ 
You shifted in the tub, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. Its circle shape made it larger than the regular copper tubs, which was perfect to fit two people. 
Cregan swiftly disrobed, his clothes falling into a lump on the floor before stepping in the warm water. ‘’Seven Hells, this it hot.’’ 
A soft giggle slipped from your lips. ‘’The water has cooled down since I got in,’’ you explained as he settled before you, angling his long legs on each side of you. ‘’Us, Targaryens, have a stronger endurance to heat. It’s the blood of the dragon.’’ 
‘’I’ll take you to the hot springs some time, it should please you.’’ 
‘’Sounds heavenly. Will you join me?’’
Northerners were not fond of the Winterfell hot springs, too hot for their likings, but Cregan would never turn down an occasion to be with you. Especially naked. 
‘’If my lady wishes me to,’’ he murmured softly, unfolding your leg with care. His strong hands began to massage your calf, kneading your muscles gently and expertly.
A low moan escaped your lips as you leaned back against the tub, savoring the tenderness of his touch. He continued massaging your leg, his fingers working their way up before going back down and pressing a gentle kiss to your ankle. 
‘’Enjoying yourself?’’ Cregan asked, knowing the answer already from the blissful expression on your face. 
You hummed. ‘’Do you want me to wash you?’’ 
Although there were maids to assist lords and ladies with their baths, you enjoyed running a soapy sponge over your husband’s shoulders and chest. It was a moment of intimacy you cherished. 
And the idea of another woman helping your husband bathe made you green with jealousy. 
You shifted closer and grabbed the bar of soap, lathering it on a sponge before gently scrubbing the soapy sponge over Cregan’s broad shoulders. He made no movement as you washed him, allowing himself to unwind for the first time since sunrise. 
The suds dripped down his hard chest and into the bath water as you moved down his arms. The close proximity caused Cregan's eyes to rake over your bare breasts, drinking you in with a wolf’s appetite. 
He reached forward, tugging at your hip. ‘’Come here.’’ 
The Northman captured your lips into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. You winded your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you, kissing passionately. There was no need to make haste as the day was over, so you took your time. Cregan ran his palms up the length of your thighs before hoisting you on his lap in one motion. The water made it slippery, but you held on to your man.
The water swished, spilling slightly over the tub. You paid it no mind, feeling Cregan's large hands roaming up your naked body. He cupped a breast in his palm, his thumb flicking against the sensitive bud, drawing another sound of pleasure from you.
This was what he meant on your wedding day when he promised to keep you warm. 
You rutted atop him until your cunt found his hard cock under the water and rubbed yourself against it. Cregan groaned from the friction, his blood thrumming from the contact, igniting his desires. 
‘’Impatient, are we?’’ he teased, chuckling against your lips. 
Rising on his knees, Cregan pushed you down until you were resting against the tub, and parted your legs. Your needy cunt was begging for his attention. He plunged his hand in the water to toy with your clit, and your soft mewls filled the room. 
‘’Ahh, that feels good,’’ you said, opening your legs wider and catching sight of his rock-hard cock standing against his lower stomach. It twitched under the soapy water, red tip peaking out. You reached to stroke him, getting a low curse in response.  
The foreplay didn’t last long, just enough to get you going. When you had enough, you rose on your knees and turned to grab the edge of the tub, presenting your behind to your lord husband. Getting the message, Cregan kneeled behind you. He took a moment to admire your glistening folds before slowly pushing his thick cock inside.
You sucked in a breath, your inner walls pulsed around him as he entered, filling you up. You couldn’t help but moan from how good it felt. He began to thrust slowly, his low groans mixing with your moans and praises. There was no greater pleasure than this. 
Cregan ran his slightly calloused hands up and down your soapy back and hips, then tenderly squeezed your ass. You whimpered in pleasure, and he smirked at your reaction. This was never a position Cregan thought he would enjoy. He found it animalistic and unromantic. But your adventurous side was bleeding through him. 
After a harder thrust, your hand slipped, reminding you that bath intercourses were not the safest. Fortunately, Cregan was quick, grabbing your shoulder before you could hurt yourself. 
‘’This is not going to work,’’ he decided, not wanting to have to explain to the maester how you split your chin…
You let out an unhappy whine when he pulled out. The emptiness didn't last long. Cregan went back to where he had been sat, and pulled you over him, his cock slipping with ease back into your cunt.
Water splashed over the tub as you began to slowly ride him, gripping onto his biceps and creating moon shaped indents into his skin as he was kissing your jaw and neck. The maids who will clean up in the morrow will no doubt wonder how all that water got out of the tub. 
His breathing began to quicken, and a low groan escaped his throat as you picked up your pace. He buried his head into your neck, nipping at your skin. ‘’Slow down. Don’t want—agh this to end so soon.’’
‘’Can't,’’ you whined, lost in your own pleasure. Your head fell back as you rode him even faster, your breasts bouncing in rhythm, perky and heavy, perfect to nurse his future babes. 
He dug his fingertips into your thighs, trying to hold you back as he panted against your chest, but you were determined to reach your peak. ‘’Seven hells, you’ll be the end of me.’’
Cregan’s control was slipping, his breaths turning ragged. You loved him like this. Your powerful, confident Warden of the North, completely lost and at your mercy.
Your hips rolled against his and your legs were quivering, but you kept up your pace, desperately needing to finish. 
Cregan felt you clench around him, your orgasm reaching its peak, and swallowed your strangled cry as he captured your mouth in a hungry kiss. He didn’t last much longer after that. With a guttural moan, the northman spilled his seed inside of you, his hips bucking up to prolong the release.
‘’I’m going to miss you when you leave for the Wall’’ you said, still attached to Cregan’s body. ‘’Winter is long.’’ 
He drew lazy circles along your bare hip with his thumb as he pressed a sweet kiss under your jaw. ‘’The water is getting cold. We should get out.’’
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